


The Cold Will Not

by GrayceAdamsArchive



Series: The World Does (not) Revolve Around Perrin Fletcher [5]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Adoptive Familes, Backstory, Child Abandonment, Gen, Ocelots, child being raised by animals, child endangerment, drusselstein is a crappy country, feral child, heinzs parents are terrible people, in reality she'd probs eat him tbh so, mama ocelot - Freeform, unrealistic animal behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5381756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrayceAdamsArchive/pseuds/GrayceAdamsArchive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost fifty years ago, a baby was abandoned in the woods of Drusselstein.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cold Will Not

**Author's Note:**

> I know MM is unfinished buuuuttt I've had this sitting in my drafts for a while and it's just a little introductory one-shot to Heinz's life with the ocelots, so I'm postin' it.

The tiny cry of an infant echoed among the trees of Drusselstein’s darkest forest, high and warbling, sending startled flocks of birds fleeing into the dark sky. The wail carried on for a moment before falling silent, and the forest seemed to hold its breath in the silence that came after.

The quiet of the woods unnerved the man half-hiding in the shadow of a tall, twisted oak, a long cloak wrapped around his head and body, obscuring his features. His broad shoulders were hunched, one arm cupped against his chest, a tiny bundle cradled in the crook of his elbow. His free hand patted at the bundle absently as he glanced around, wary of the wolves that roamed these parts. The cry of a helpless baby was sure to attract them, but for now, there was no sign of a pack nearby. The man glanced down at the bundle, tugging the edge of the gray blanket aside to reveal the face of a baby, nose long and pointed, eyes watery and blue as flax flowers, a rarity in Drusselstein, where brown eyes were the norm. Probably why the parents had left the baby in the hospital; blue eyes were thought to be bad luck in some superstitions. Still, the man carefully tucked the blanket back around the child’s face and ducked out of the shadow of the tree, striding quickly through the forest.

There were few places an abandoned child could go in the town of Gimmelshtump, and none of them pleasant. Though the man felt guilt, he knew this was the better way. There were too many hungry mouths in the town as it was, and the country as a whole was desperately poor.

The distant sound of a wolf’s howl made the man freeze in his tracks, looking around for any sign of the beast approaching. The howl faded out and didn’t return, so the man resumed his trek deep into the forest, finally coming to a small grove near the base of a mountain, a few gnarled trees forming a sheltered clearing. Near the base of one, he cleared the ground of damp leaves and muck, trying to get it as dry as possible before lowering the bundle to the ground. There was a road nearby, and occasionally a traveler or caravan came along it. If the child was lucky, tonight would be one of those times.

Brushing one gloved hand over the child’s face, the man paused, a shuddering breath escaping him as guilt swelled in his chest.

“Luck be with you, child,” the man whispered in a rough voice. “Or may the cold take you quickly, before the beasts do.” Tucking the edges of the blanket more securely around the child, the man shoved himself back to his feet and then started towards the nearby road, pulling his hood further down over his face when the baby started to cry again, shrill and frightened.

The man vanished into the night, and the baby continued to wail long after he was gone.

~oOo~

The moon rode high in the sky, soaring among a spread of stars and clouds that were stretched and warped by the wind, and the forest whispered like forests do when no hind-walkers stalked between the trees. The few leaves still clinging to the branches overhead rustled as the trees swayed gently, limbs creaking out a song more familiar to her ears than the growl of her mate’s voice.

Her name was unpronounceable to most hind-walkers, a gurgling sort of purr that rumbled like thunder in the back of the throat, but one hind-walker would tell you the closest to its meaning you could get would be Petal of Red Flower, for she was named after the roses that had circled the den where her mother had birthed her almost five years ago.

Petal herself was searching for that very den, her own kit heavy in her belly, nearly ready to be born. It was her first litter, and her gut hung full and swollen as she prowled through the underbrush, muzzle low to the ground as she scented the earth. A familiar smell reached her, and she curled her lips back from her fangs, wondering what a hind-walker had been doing this far from their paths. The humans of Drusselstein rarely ventured off their roads, especially in this forest, for fear of the creatures that dwelled within.

Petal explored the trail of scent for a moment, noting that it was quickly growing stale, at least an hour old, if not longer. The hind-walker was unlikely to still be nearby, so she quickly put it out of her mind and continued her search for a suitable den. It had been years since she’d been near the cave she’d been birthed in, but she was sure it was close to here. Even if it wasn’t, she could find a safe place to have her kit regardless, perhaps in a crevice near the base of the mountain.

Then a weak, pathetic cry broke the quiet song of the forest, and Petal froze, crouched low to the ground, one paw raised in mid-step. It was not the cry of any beast native to the forest, not a call of the hunt or challenge, but of weakness, fragility, and fear. Petal prowled forward quickly, paws soft and silent on the damp earth as she followed the sound back to its source, ears pricked forward, the white spots on the back nearly glowing in the pale light from the moon.

She followed the sound into a small clearing, framed by a few gnarled trees. At the base of one, on a carefully cleared patch of ground was a tangled bunch of cloth, squirming slightly with whatever was inside. Petal approached slowly, head low and every step carefully balanced in case she had to suddenly retreat. She pulled her lips back and scented hesitantly at the bundle when she got within a few feet. She could smell the same human she’d crossed the trail of earlier, but the scent was faint, and the squirming thing smelled more strongly of blood and earth than anything else. Petal growled deep in her chest, waiting to see if the blood-scented thing would spring into action and attack her after being alerted to her presence. The bundle did nothing but continue to wiggle, a small, pale limb stretching free of it after a moment. Another whimpering cry came from it, pathetic and mewling.

Deciding that it was probably not dangerous, Petal lifted her head and padded forward, tail twitching with curiosity. The bundle rolled to one side when she came to stand over it, cloth falling aside to reveal a scrawny, pale hind-walker cub, limbs waving weakly as it cried and clutched at a few wet leaves over the edge of its blanket. Petal sneezed at it in surprise, backing up a few steps. Hind-walkers rarely abandoned their young in the forest, and when the did, they usually died long before Petal came upon what remained of them. This cub was alive, though not well, going by its weak stirrings and pathetic cries. Petal approached it again hesitantly, sniffing curiously at one of its hind paws. The creature whimpered and pressed its foot against Petal’s nose, making her snort a bit in indignation. Shaking her head, she leaned in and sniffed at its underbelly and head, blowing out a harsh breath in the messy fur sticking up around the top of its head. Petal was just starting to wonder if it was worth killing it for the few mouthfuls of meat it would provide when two small paws reached up and tangled in the fur under her chin, the cub’s weak cries dying off into a tiny gurgle. Petal froze and then stared down at the little creature, feeling her kit roll around inside her belly, stretching and kicking around her insides.

Hesitantly, Petal lowered her head a bit more and breathed in the cub’s scent again. Blood and earth and her own smell blanketed the kit now, thick and strong. Huffing out a breath, Petal rubbed her cheek against the human kit’s forehead. What was one more kit to add to the one that filled her belly now? She was young and strong, she could more than easily care for two kits. Even if one of them was a hind-walker.

Nudging the cub with her nose, Petal rolled it back onto the cloth and grabbed the edge of the blanket, bracing her feet so she could drag the kit across the ground relatively easily. It squirmed and complained but Petal ignored it, pausing to look around for somewhere she could den. The kit in her belly would be coming soon, after all, and with a second, absolutely helpless cub, she would need a safe place to birth and hide them.

After a few minutes she found a craggy opening in the side of the mountain, not too far up the slope, framed by a few boulders. Inside was dry and there was a bolt hole naturally occurring in the cave, making it almost perfect. Nearly purring with pride in herself, Petal dragged the kit on the blanket into the cave, digging out a dip in the soft floor big enough for her to lay curled around her new charge before settling in.

The cub whimpered and gurgled for a little bit as Petal rubbed her cheek and chin along its body, scenting him thoroughly so that he smelled entirely of ocelot rather than of humans. After a little while the cub fell quiet, small body rising and falling with even breaths as it slipped into sleep against her side, warm and content enough for now.

Petal wrapped her tail around its back and laid her head on top of it, a rumbling purr escaping her chest as her own eyes slid half shut, watching as the world outside grew dark with a storm. Her kits were safe, one in her belly and the other cradled against her. The beasts had the child, and so the cold would not take this one.


End file.
